The Memoirs of a Gallifreyan
by Yunagirlamy
Summary: A series of one-shots following days in the life of the Doctor's daughter. Latest one-shot: the Doctor has just regenerated and his daughter has a hard time believing she can still call him "Dad".


**Author's notes: Hello! *waves* This is the first of many Doctor Who one-shots. They'll focus on my original character whose name will be revealed in this one-shot. Saying it here would spoil things really. I hope you like my character – I've been working on her since 2007 and here is where I properly introduce her. I'm too scared to do an actual story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, just my original character. **

**1. A New Life**

She couldn't face saying goodbye. She knew her father really had no choice in the matter, but herself? She just could not do it. For her it was impossible. Nonetheless she still felt guilty about it. Her hearts ripped into pieces as she thought about what they would be thinking. _Why wasn't she there? Did she hate us? Were we not good enough? _Oh, they were _so_ good enough – they were _better_ than good enough.

_Rose_ _– I hated you at first. I suppose I still hold a little distaste for you. But that's only because you broke my father's hearts. I'll never forgive you for that. I do miss you, though, and I'm glad at least one version of my father gets to live with you—one that doesn't have to watch you grow old and die whilst he stays young. _

_Martha – You brilliant, amazing person—you saved our lives. If it wasn't for you I would be dead right now. I wouldn't have even received the chance to regenerate. I'm sorry my father kept comparing you to Rose. Really, I should have told him off for that. Thank you, Martha. We owe everything to you. _

_Donna… Donna – You're the most important woman in creation. What can I say about you that hasn't already been said? … I'm sorry, Donna. I am so, so sorry. _

She wiped her tears away and brushed her brown locks away from her wet face. Enough tears had been shed – _for now_. No doubt they'd be swiftly returning once she saw her father's regeneration. She couldn't help it, though; it was never a nice affair to watch your father die. She remembered the first time she saw him regenerate. He made it sound so casual to Rose, whilst she knew the truth. Rose was confused and she just cried and mentally begged him not to die. But he made no fuss about it, no drama whatsoever. It was simple.

It was strange but she wished she could have seen her father regenerate from his eighth self to his warrior self and then into his ninth self (though technically speaking his ninth self was really his tenth self) but she couldn't. She was unconscious when the Eighth Doctor died. He told her that he held her in his arms until he made his choice onto whom to regenerate into. Then she was taken away because he did not want his daughter to see the regeneration. She was only four-years-old at the time. A hundred years passed and the War Doctor dropped in on his daughter from time to time—she had been left in the care of some trustworthy people. Then one day a man with little hair and a leather jacket turned up, claiming the Time War was now over and he had come to collect his daughter. That was the happiest day of her life. She was one-hundred-and-ten-years old but had the appearance of a ten-year-old Earth child. Though, really, she still _was_ in her childhood.

But all that was in the past. She was now a teenager, one-hundred-and-fifteen-years-old—and right now her father was dying.

She stood up from her bed and straightened her red tartan skirt. She breathed a sigh and stepped over to her mirror, examining herself. Her blue eyes were red and puffy and a few stray tears ran down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away and adjusted the red tartan Alice band sat in her brown hair. She checked her white jumped looked okay and once she was satisfied with it she moved over to her door and wrapped her fingers around the handle.

_What?! _

"Dad!" She shouted, definitely loud enough for him to hear, "You let me out right now! You hear me!? P-Please, I need to be there for you!"

_He had locked her in_.

"_DAD_!" She banged her fist viciously on her oak door. "I can't stay in here! Not whilst you're dying! D-Dad…" Her voice trembled with tears along with her body and eventually she let go of the handle and slowly collapsed to her knees, arms wrapped around her stomach as she sobbed.

How could he do this to her? She knew it was him. The TARDIS would _never_ have done this to her. He was dying and he chose to die _alone_. It wasn't fair. She _had_ to be there. He was making her be a horrible daughter. She would never forgive him for this.

* * *

She wasn't sure how long she was asleep or _why_ she had fallen asleep. The last thing she remembered was sobbing as she sat by her door. Now she was in her bed—and her headband had been removed from her head, most likely so it wouldn't cause her discomfort in her sleep. The girl removed her quilt and swung her legs around onto her carpeted floor.

Something was different about the TARDIS, she could feel it. Her room hadn't changed one bit but the teenager knew that when she stepped outside her room the hallway would be _completely _different. But she would waste no time in finding out.

The Gallifreyan rushed over to her door and opened it—she was greeted with, just as she thought, a completely new hallway. She shut her door behind as her eyes scanned the now white hallway. She didn't like it. It was too blank. The TARDIS used to have detailed walls but now? Just… _nothing_.

"What's the nasty man done to you, old girl, hm?" She muttered, rubbing her hand affectionately, "You've been destroyed, haven't you? And you kept me safe, like in a bubble." She was smart and could figure things out just like her father. "Thank you, TARDIS. Now I have to go and give my dad a big slap."

She walked down the white corridor, quite liking the feel of the cold floor against her tight covered feet. Well, at least it was _one_ thing she liked about the TARDIS.

_"There's something I haven't told you about yet, something… quite important."_

Was that her father's voice she could hear? No, it couldn't have been. It sounded too young to be his. But her father was definitely on the ship, she could sense him.

_"Okay, Doctor… what's this important thing you've forgotten to tell me about?"_

So it _was_ his voice—and apparently he had already found a new companion. Her blue eyes clouded with tears; he'd already gone and had his first adventure, without her. She was going to absolutely _kill_ him.

_"I didn't forget, not really, it's just… well, I didn't really find the right time to tell you until now." _

She was nearly at the console room – soon she would lay her eyes upon her father's now Eleventh self and his apparent new companion. Whoever she was the woman was young and _definitely_ Scottish. No mistaking that.

Now one more step and she would in full view of the Doctor and this new woman. Cautiously… she took that step.

And her breathe escaped her. The console room was different—it was bigger and brighter. She liked it, it was lovely. Better than the stupid, blank corridors.

"Ah, Ashleigh, you're awake!"

Ashleigh's eyes shot over to… _that_ was her father? That young man in the Harris Tweed jacket and the ridiculous bow-tie? And just what was up with his _hair_ and his _nose_ and his _chin_? Ashleigh was silent as she examined him more, ignoring the stupid grin on his face.

"We were just talking about you," the Doctor remarked, moving closer to her.

Oh, so she was the _thing_? That was flattering.

"Doctor, who is she? You never mentioned anyone called Ashleigh to _me_," the Scottish—and ginger—woman commented, her eyes focused on Ashleigh.

The Doctor turned to face the woman and put an arm around Ashleigh's shoulders. Ashleigh narrowed her eyes at the Doctor's hand on her shoulder like it was a Dalek.

"Amy, this is my daughter—Ashleigh."

"Excuse me? Your _daughter_?"

Yes, that was the reaction most of the time. Now, Ashleigh feared, it would be the reaction _all_ the time.

"Yes, Amy, my daughter," the Doctor repeated with pride in his tone.

"No I'm not." Ashleigh spoke in a quiet tone as her hearts were still trying to believe that this man, this tall, skinny and very young man, was her father. "I'm not your daughter because you're _not_ my dad. I-I know he regenerated but he _can't_ be you!" Her brain was screaming at her that this _was_ her father. She could sense it. Her hearts would not let her believe it, however.

"Ashleigh," the Doctor began, turning back to face her, "I know I've changed a lot, and I look a lot younger than before, but I'm still your father." He put her hands on the sides of her face and Ashleigh could feel the warmth that had always been there. "It doesn't matter what I look like; you can always call me your father, regardless of what _any_one says. You understand me?"

Ashleigh closed her eyes and tears leaked out of them. "But _how_ can I call you dad _now_? We only look about ten years apart, maybe not even _that_."

"I know, and I'm sorry," the Doctor remarked sincerely, "but this is how I look now. I know it'll be hard for you to pretend I'm not your dad and I wish I could change that." He sighed and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry."

Ashleigh suddenly burst into sobs and launched herself at her father, all her emotions spilling out. She wrapped her arms around him tightly as she cried into his shoulder. The Doctor embraced her and rubbed her back.

Amy awkwardly stood in the background—all she wanted to do was give the upset child a hug, even if she didn't know her. At least, not properly.

"Come on, Ash," the Doctor said, taking her hand, "let's move down the stairs so we've got more room." Ashleigh simply nodded and let her father lead her down the stairs. "Are you okay now?" he asked, brushing a hand through her hair.

"I'll be fine, Dad," Ashleigh responded—she smiled as the word did not seem as strange as she thought it would. "You, however…" A scowl promptly appeared on her face and before the Doctor had a chance to protest Ashleigh slapped him around his face.

"_Ow_!" The Doctor cried, rubbing his cheek, "What was _that_ for?"

"_You_ locked me in my room!" Ashleigh exclaimed, "Whilst you were regenerating! I wanted to be there so you weren't alone!"

"… I know, Ashleigh, I'm sorry, but I don't like you watching me regenerate," the Doctor explained. "You know that, don't you?"

"Regenerate?" Amy repeated, "What's a regenerate?"

"So you're the new companion," Ashleigh sighed, choosing to ignore the question, "Ginger, _again_."

"Yeah, she had the nerve to be," the Doctor muttered.

"I had the nerve?" Amy asked, raising an eyebrow, "Well _you_ had the nerve to leave me waiting for twelve years _and_ forget to mention you had a daughter!"

Ashleigh found herself grinning at the tone this new companion had – she was fierce and tough, Ashleigh could tell. She was someone who didn't take any rubbish from anyone, just like… Donna.

"I said I was sorry!" the Doctor cried, sounding like a scolded child. "What else do you want me to do?"

"Dad, did you put me in bed?" Ashleigh suddenly asked and the Doctor looked pleased with the change of subject.

"Yes, Ashleigh, I did," he responded, "The TARDIS was in a bit of a mess so I asked her to put you to sleep." He grimaced at that point, "Sorry, you were asleep on the floor for an hour."

Ashleigh waved her hand in dismissal. "It's fine, I didn't know, did I?"

"Well, I suppose not," the Doctor said, "Anyway, I came back after meeting Miss Pond here, decided to check up on you, found you on the floor so I picked you up and tucked you in bed. Just like when you were little."

A blush came to Ashleigh's cheeks, "Okay, now I know you're my dad because you're still an embarrassing idiot."

"He's an embarrassing idiot just with the way he's dressed," Amy commented, moving to stand by the younger - at least younger in appearance - girl.

"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed in offence, "What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"

"That bloody bow-tie," Ashleigh replied, "What _is_ that?"

"Bow-ties, young lady, are cool," the Doctor told her, "And don't swear."

Ashleigh rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It is _far_ from cool. I liked your plimsolls. _They_ were cool."

"I'm not even going to ask," Amy decided.

"Good decision," Ashleigh said, "Just let him be as weird as he likes. Less complaints then."

"So, all of space and time," the Doctor began, a smile playing on his lips, "Where do you want to start?"

**A/N: And there we are! What do you think? I'd love a review please, but I'm not going to beg for one. Hope you enjoyed the one-shot as much as I enjoyed writing it! Oh, and if you like Pokémon – and I will love you if you do – please check out my Pokémon one-shot series, ****_"It's Not Always Black and White_****". **

**Yunagirlamy, 31.1.14.**


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